


Choice and Consequence

by Mithlomi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:06:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithlomi/pseuds/Mithlomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a>Cole's wonderful AU idea</a>. </p>
<p>In a desperate attempt to save Sif from Ragnarok, Loki sends her away from Asgard. But his selfish decision has consequences that he should have seen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choice and Consequence

**Author's Note:**

> So this one needs a bit of background
> 
> So I spent the day thinking about this and I would like to continue this. I’m not very good at multi-chapter fic and if I’m going to do this, I would seriously have to think about it.
> 
> But it was just eating up at me. Loki sending Sif away is an entirely selfish decision and one that she would find incredible hard to forgive him for. Ragnarok is destroying her home, the home she has dedicated her whole life to defending and now he is denying her that chance.
> 
> There’s plenty more to this headcanon, some of which is hinted at in the fic and I have more planned to write for now.
> 
> But the full story might take a while.
> 
> Anyway, here you go.

She has not touched him yet.

Loki did not know what he expected. The harsh sting of a rough slap maybe orperhaps the crushing force of her arms around him. He couldn’t call it, he wasn’t sure… and he’s usually sure of everything.

She simply stares, frozen to her spot a few feet away from him yet it still feels further than the realms of distance between them these last few months.

He hears Jane, the woman who greeted him and who he’s worked out is the mortal Thor is obsessed with, move away from them, but not before she’s given Sif a small look to which Sif nods silently, and there is a pang of jealously that she has found someone else with which to have a wordless conversation and he knows it’s entirely unfounded and unfair of him.

He shakes it off as the smaller woman disappears and Sif just tilts her head in that proud way she has always done. He takes her in then. She’s lost weight, her cheeks hollow. Her hair, usually soft, falling in silken waves around her face, is scraped back into a loose ponytail. And her eyes, usually so lucid and bright, are dark, shadows drooping over her features.

She’s tired. Worn out. She’s fading away…

What has he done?

He swallows, working the tightness in his throat. “Sif…”

“You have come then?” she interupts him. Her voice is hollow.

He pauses for a moment, eyes wide, unsure of what she wants him to say, before he simply nods. “Yes.”

She does nothing, merely pulls the too-big jacket she wears tighter around herself. “I wasn’t sure…” she whispers, frowning a little and looking him over as if trying to figure him out.

He couldn’t blame her.

She suddenly turns her head, looking up the stairs. Her eyes soften for a moment and she bites at her lip, and he can see something is pulling at her. There’s uncertainty in her eyes…

He starts again, taking a tentative step forward. “Sif…” he begins, but he sees her flinch, stepping back, as if afraid of him getting too close and he feels the stab in his chest once more.

“Come,” she says, trying to cover her move. “There is… something you must see.” She bites her lips one more time before slowly making her way up the stairs, not bothering to check if he is following.

And he does freeze for a moment, wondering if this really is something he wants to see. But he has left her on her own for long enough, so he follows, just catching her walk into a room at the top of the stairs.

It’s small, sparse. A wardrobe and and a vanity although there is a little on it. And a small bed on which Sif places a small white blanket as she leans over something by the side. He frowns, stepping a little closer into the room and if she hears him she ignores him.

She starts to whisper something, softly, so quietly he can barely make it out but he does here the sudden lightness in her voice, as she speaks without really thinking. “Shh, I’m sorry. I know. No, it’s all right, little one…”

He stops dead. And Sif turns around.

She does not look at him, eyes focused on the bundle in her arms and it’s only now that he sees that brightness there that he’s so familiar with, that he used to delight in being able to bring to her. A soft smile plays on the corners of her mouth and she continues her soft mutterings of nothing in particular, just trying to sooth the restless child in her arms…

“We have a visitor, my love…” And finally, finally, she meets his gaze, waiting, searching…

His mouth drops a little, working around words that do not come. Always his strength, they fail him now. He takes a step forward once more, and she does not move, merely waits. Her eyes are damp and she presses her lips together.

“Your daughter, Loki…” And that was exactly what he needed. To hear it out loud. That’s what makes it real.

A soft noise escapes his lips that he cannot control. A thousand thought rush through his mind and even he, quick as he is, cannot keep up with them. How? When? Here? On her own…

What has he done?

It is his turn to flinch, to step back. He cannot breath for a moment, cannot think. He’s a second from bolting when her eyes grow dark.

“Don’t you dare…” she murmurs and he knows her well enough to see she’s barely holding herself in check.

She is right. He cannot run away. Not now. Not this time. He must face this.

With his heart in his throat, pounding in her ears, he steps closer, and he feels a shiver run down his spine at being this close to her again, breathing in her scent…

But there’s something else there now, and as he lifts a shaking hand to rest ever so gently on the bundle of blankets in her arms, he sees his daughter for the first time.

He lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

She is beautiful. Small and perfectly formed, with tiny fingers that clutch at Sif’s jacket as if she might disapper. She wriggles a little at the unfamiliar pressure of his hand and he moves to let go but Sif shakes her head. So he waits. And his daughter looks up at him for the first time.

He is speechless. “Sif…” he chokes.

“Eira,” she says quietly, and he can hear the crack in her voice.

He blinks at her. “What?”

“Her name is Eira.” Sif looks up at him and her eyes are shining. “I… I thought she should have a bit of you. Even if you weren’t…” A shaky breath and she trails off.

“Sif,” he starts again, feeling the now familiar break of his heart. “Please, I…”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Not now.”

And he knows exactly what she means.

No. He didn’t know what he expected. But he did know it would not be simple. Not anymore. He made that choice himself.

But at least, for the moment, that can wait.

Sif shifts and gently places Eira in his arms.

She fits perfectly.

And for now, that is enough.


End file.
